On the Road
by MissTonks21
Summary: Fem!Harry is pushed through the Veil and into another dimension just a few short years after the war. She's lost her home, her family and the love of her life. This is the story of her journey to find her godfather, her unexpected discovery of the supernatural and a dysfunctional family, a couple of apocalypses and her attempts to return home. But where is home? AU warnings inside
1. Chapter 1

Warnings (I may have forgotten some): character death, violence, abuse, alcohol as a coping mechanism, Harry hates herself, as do most supernatural characters, questionable morals, basically everything already in supernatural, powerfulish!Harry, sporadic updates

I think that's it but tell me if I miss anything. Also I have a basic plot and where I want this to head but I don't mind adding or changing things so if you have any ideas or things you'd like to see included please message or review, I'd really appreciate it. First chapter's quite short but its just an intro really, so proceed...

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Someone had put a blanket around her shoulders, one of the policemen she suspected; though she couldn't be certain since her mind wasn't processing anything properly. Every thought wound back to George, the way his normally vibrant eyes had turned glassy and vacant, the blood on his chest, on her hands. She couldn't escape the pungent odor of copper, it permeated the very fiber of her being, leaving her nauseated.

Afterwards in the hospital, when asked to share her memories of the event she could only recall the blanket and the pervading crushing realization that even heroes aren't permitted happy endings; maybe especially heroes. Her fiance's cause death was recorded as extensive internal and external trauma, the date 31st October 2001. He was 23 years old. At the time nobody thought to suspect her, despite her lack of identification and somewhat muddled account of the murder: she was only 21, still a child by most standards and had also been quite severely injured in the attack. It was not until years later, after she had vanished again from all reputable sources that Agent Henrickson connected her to the legendary Winchester brothers and began to theorize on the beginning of the emergence of her 'true' self (delusional and violent according to him, before he knew the truth anyway). However for that moment Harriet Potter was free to leave, though only after the funeral of course.

Harry paid her medical bills in cash and left Southern Wyoming, the city which she and her fiance inexplicably found themselves after their brief but bloody battle with the previously covert surviving sect of death eaters. The city where she relived the rising of Voldemort, the loss of her Godfather and the considerable destruction of the Second Wizarding War just minutes before she witnessed the death of George. By that point she had already figured out that the Veil residing in the department of mysteries that she had been so unceremoniously forced through was actually some sort of one way gateway to another dimension, one that as far as she could tell didn't even a Wizarding world; though in all honestly she didn't exactly look very hard - everything seemed rather redundant without George there. Only the possibility that Sirius was alive and in this dimension kept her functional. At the first opportunity she brought a beautiful 1962 Nortan Atlas. Though she couldn't claim to be an expert on bikes, she knew Sirius's old Triumph inside-out thanks to Arthur's penchant for pulling it apart, and the Nortan seemed to be of a similar quality and build. So, nothing behind her and everything ahead of her, with a full tank of gas, a little less than $100, and no honest method of obtaining more, Harry Potter hit the road.

Time to find her Godfather.


	2. Chapter 2

Thanks to all the people who faved and followed this and especially to those who reviewed.

semper paratis and anyone else confused, yes Harry and George were pushed through the Veil after a battle with death eaters, but you'll find out more about that when the Winchesters do (which may not be for a while - sorry)

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Four years, a lot of false leads, setbacks and credit card scams later and Harry was no closer to finding Sirius than when she had started. Initially her time was spent learning how to live without George, and without Hermione there to nag her and Ron there to joke with, that began to mean nothing short of imbibing copious amounts of alcohol in an attempt to stem the inevitable nightmares and excruciating pain that George's death and absence of anything familiar prompted. She kept her head down, slept in truly disgusting motels and learned how to apply for a credit card, then learned to apply for a credit card under a false name. A mix of Hermione, NEWTs and the Auror training program had taught Harry to become fairly proficient in the art of research and for a while every hour not spent drinking in seedy bars or not sleeping in seedy motels was spent in the library of whatever town she had stopped at for the week. Each new town brought no answers and with every new day Harry found her alcohol intake steadily increasing and her hope of ever finding her way home diminishing.

Her first major breakthrough was the discovery of the four 'Harry Potter' books and 'sorcerers stone' film. Which surprisingly wasn't found during her thorough perusal of the occult sections of various libraries across Wyoming. She had been fruitlessly searching for just about two weeks for any sign of her Godfather or some sort of Magical community and was exhausted from the combination of research, sleepless nights, and for her stubborn refusal to acknowledge the reason for said sleepless nights; instead choosing to drown her sorrows nightly. It was during the morning after such a night, when her head was pounding and she couldn't fathom ever looking at another book that she stumbled upon a cinema (though the Americans called it 'the movies') showing a curious film bearing her name. The film showed a warped version of the the first year of her life, herself portrayed by a little boy her relatives, friends and teachers by various actors who looked and often acted nothing like their counterparts. (Except Snape, both his appearance and mannerisms were almost perfect, which to be honest was painful to watch what with her adult understanding of the situation). Hangover forgotten, she headed back to the library and found every 'Harry Potter' book available, at that precise moment there were only three as all the copies of Sorcerer's Stone had already been checked out. The afternoon was spent skimming all three books and oscillating between horrified, amused and hopeful as she read. By closing time Harry had come to three conclusions:  
1) The books were fairly accurate although artistic license had been taken with a few major aspects of her life; the insignificant detail of her gender being her primary example.  
2) Some aspects had been skimmed over or left out presumably to maintain the book's PG rating.  
3) The books were considered popular children's fiction by the people of this world.

For four years that discovery remained her biggest breakthrough towards finding Sirius, magic and a way back home. All things considered Harry didn't hold out much hope, which is partially the reason why her encounter with the supernatural was so unexpected. The other, funnily enough is that after years of desperate and in depth digging with no reliable results she stumbled upon the Vampire nest completely by accident. Though perhaps 'stumbled' isn't the most pertinent term considering the method by which she arrived - knocked out in the back of the leader's old Honda, wandless and still moderately drunk; maybe it _is_ seeing as how she stumbled as she was dragged from the trunk and into the old mansion.

By the time they had her strapped into a chair she had managed to regain some semblance of coherency, even so she couldn't really bring herself to care. So she had been kidnapped by some crazies, who were, according to the statistics that she had been spending the last 4 years studying (anything to help, anything to figure out why) most likely going to kill her; hey it's not like she had much of a life anymore anyway. A large and rather attractive man was the first to approach and from the way the others seemed to revolve around his presence Harry was pretty confident in deducing that he was the 'head' of this operation - whatever the hell it was. He reached for a chair and sat down on it backwards, head resting on his folded arms and seemingly fascinated by Harry's face. The intense staring was actually starting to make her feel uncomfortable - no mean feat considering the attention she was used to from first the wizarding world and later from men who hung around the dingy bars she frequented; even so, she wouldn't turn away first, what type of a Gryff would that make her? After a while of mutual and silent studying the man barked out a laugh,

"Name's Peter," he started, still smirking slightly "and I would love to know what a pretty little hunter like you is doing in my territory." his expression never changed but his tone dropped lower and lower until it almost seemed as though he was growling. Her body remained relaxed, despite her mind going a mile a minute. Was this a breakthrough? His emphasis on territory was eerily reminiscent of the werewolf packs from back home - they even seemed to had the same pack dynamic that Remus had often lamented; it was excruciatingly hard to exercise restraint rather than give into the tentative hope of there being something else out there, and instead remember her situation. Somehow she managed to reign in her instinctive joy at the possible discovery of the _magical_, the _familiar_ and push for information instead. Hunter... Harry could only assume he meant something to do with witch hunters, she could vaguely remember Binns yammering on about the witch trials and their significance to the magical community; most especially America's magical community as... theirs had lasted longer... or something? Though she couldn't fathom where he got the impression, she had always made sure to keep to herself, made sure her head was down and ears open. Either way, for now the best course of action was to play ignorant little girl, Harry had always been good at that.

"I-I don't understand... P-p-please don't hurt me, you can have my credit card - i-it's in my pocket... Please - I-I don't understand!"

Mentally congratulating herself on her Quirrel impression and biting her cheek hard enough to bleed Harry slowly raised her head and now watering eyes to the man (~werewolf?) before her. In response his head quirked to the side, still smiling he seemed to deliberate for a second, then leaned in

"That's a lovely little act sweetheart but _I _know your kind. You are a hunter, you act like them, talk like them, sniff around in _business_ that ain't none of your _business_!"

The people surrounding him started to jeering, agreeing loudly, though Harry suspected that they were starting to become a bit impatient, and as though he sensed her thoughts the man stood abruptly, kicked away the chair and pressed his face close to hers -

"-_You _killed Rachel and Garreth. They were our _family_! You - _you _are as much as a monster as you like to say _we_ are. You fucking hypercritical bitch!"

Back in _her _world Harry would have probably started to get a little bit worried right around now - whatever these people were, they weren't messing around and for whatever reason clearly wanted her head on a platter. Sure, she had her wand, though how much use it would be against whatever these things were was debatable; especially since she was currently tied up and unable to access it. Even then she remembered how well her spells had worked on Greyback and who knew if these people were of the same 'build'. But she wasn't back in _her _world, she was in a wonky-ass, godforsaken copy with creepy gender-bend PG books and not a magical community in sight. A world which as far as she could speculate with her limited knowledge of magical theory was fundamentally different - wild. Since her arrival she had noticed her magic fluctuating to the point where her wand was virtually useless. As far as she could tell there was no pattern to the strength of her magic over her travels and her attempts at research had all yielded (surprise surprise) nada, however while the times where she couldn't so much as levitate a feather made her damn near homicidal the moments where she could damn near taste the magic more than made up for it. Harry wasn't worried because _this_ was one of those moments.

Without so much as a blink the ropes binding her were gone, and effortlessly she slipped into the leader's mind. Magic thrummed underneath her skin, almost tangible in the air as she pushed further and further into the crevices of the ma-the _Vampire's _Mind. It was only after what felt like a lifetime that she let go, and the vampire fell to the floor clutching his head in agony. While she was still reeling from the overload of information and overbearing weight of her discoveries the large wooden doors burst open, revealing the outline of two men clutching what looked to be machetes, each with one in both hands. Harry's show had seemed to freeze all the vamps and as it was they were all just a little too slow to react to the intrusion as the men - _Hunters, _her still slightly fogged mind supplied - cut down their not insignificant numbers as though they were nothing. Seconds before they were about to chop her head off too she managed to fall back, palms up in the universal peace gesture.

"Human," she gasped, "I'm human, please see - no fangs, see?"

Chest heaving from exertion, and shaking slightly from excess adrenalin and the shock of everything she pulled her up lips into a rather desperate mockery of a smile while the men traded skeptical looks. Despite this, something about her seemed to ignite a begrudging acceptance of her from both parties as they slowly lowered their weapons.

"You a Hunter?" the shorter probed, his voice gruff and stance wary. Harry nodded. She might not have been completely sold on the whole hunting the supernatural crap - hell she was a _witch _for crying out loud, but the fact remained that those vampires were completely insane and these 'Hunters' might have saved her life, if she had been normal and unable to handle it herself, anyway. Besides, this seemed like a wonderful in to finding information on the previously _completely_ hidden magical aspect of this world which she had been killing herself these last four years to find so much of a trace of, even if it wasn't exactly how she had planned on her eventual contact with it. The men looked skeptical, which she couldn't really blame them for; to them she was a skinny little girl, without weapons in the middle of a vampire nest - not really Hunter material. Still she attempted to elaborate in the hopes of getting a little more information, she could hardly resort to legitimency again, not with two men who killed freaks for a living.

"I'm rather new to it all actually... recently found out about this whole uh, thing and thought that I should probably attempt to do something - you know? But yeah I didn't think there'd be a whole nest of vamps, no way I'm ready for that shit ... so uh thanks, by the way - for helping out... _totally _had a plan and everything but still, it's appreciated... name's Harry, by the way."

By the end of her little speech the Hunters had relaxed, even if they had started to look at her like she was a complete idiot who nothing about anything (nothing she wasn't used to, thanks largely to being in Snape's classes for six years). The men introduced themselves as Winchester and Walker which Harry privately thought made them sound like some sort of comedy duo, and both proceeded to berate her for hunting alone, her meager knowledge of the supernatural threats, her lack of preparation, her general stupidity and her stature. Despite having to restrain herself from slapping the chauvinist arseholes on more than one occasion she considered the meeting to be a success, mostly because they had given her the directions to '_Ellen's roadhouse - she's smart ol' woman, she'll look after you' _and promptly buggered off to deal with cleanup.

That night as she lay in her ratty old motel bed she couldn't help a little spark of hope rising - _maybe I can find Sirius maybe I can get home maybe I can bring George ba - _and each time, used her chronic stubbornness to squash the thoughts before she could drive herself crazy. Harry knew better than anyone that all hope could ever lead to was further heartbreak.


End file.
